tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65983186297626675382019-09-03T02:26:47.456-07:00In So Many WordsEmma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-43789120636641658192018-08-21T13:21:00.002-07:002018-08-21T13:21:30.325-07:00Bring Down the Stars is now live!<br /><br />https://amzn.to/2Mra71MEmma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-47823659235354621232018-01-19T08:43:00.002-08:002018-01-19T08:43:56.169-08:00Forever Right Now is only 99 cents!<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: &quot;SF Optimized&quot;, system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, &quot;.SFNSText-Regular&quot;, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px; margin-bottom: 6px;">*´¨✫)<br />¸.•´¸.•*´¨)✯ ¸.•*¨)<br />✮ (¸.•´✶SALE ALERT✶</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: &quot;SF Optimized&quot;, system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, &quot;.SFNSText-Regular&quot;, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">"Forever Right Now is full of heart and soul--rarely does a book impact me like this one did. Emma Scott has a new forever fan in me." --New York Times bestselling author of Archer's Voice, Mia Sheridan</div><div class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: &quot;SF Optimized&quot;, system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, &quot;.SFNSText-Regular&quot;, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.12px;"><div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px;">99 cents for a limited time only and FREE on KU<br /><span class="_5mfr _47e3" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/f9e/1/16/27a1.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span class="_7oe" style="display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;">➡️</span></span>http://amzn.to/2gA9ktr</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G3mfmv91KEk/WmIgQ_PgMYI/AAAAAAAABU8/IHrNchCTUZk5biBHIvfMNC2ha55OT-P-ACLcBGAs/s1600/FRN%2BSale%2Bgraphic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="953" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G3mfmv91KEk/WmIgQ_PgMYI/AAAAAAAABU8/IHrNchCTUZk5biBHIvfMNC2ha55OT-P-ACLcBGAs/s320/FRN%2BSale%2Bgraphic.jpg" width="317" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px;"><br /></div></div>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-38228257096416251952017-09-12T09:54:00.000-07:002017-09-12T09:54:04.569-07:00The Butterfly Project is now available on Audible!http://amzn.to/2y1h2Eb<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QQDSjjxGMVQ/WbgRJlOjpcI/AAAAAAAABMY/vBnT9CNHpD4HzT-g_14wvyiL3npFEmwlgCLcBGAs/s1600/TBP%2Baudible.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="940" height="268" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QQDSjjxGMVQ/WbgRJlOjpcI/AAAAAAAABMY/vBnT9CNHpD4HzT-g_14wvyiL3npFEmwlgCLcBGAs/s320/TBP%2Baudible.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-85740201718212251252017-04-26T20:25:00.001-07:002017-04-26T20:25:56.409-07:00The Cover for Sugar & Gold is here!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Preorder here!&nbsp;http://amzn.to/2pWTk87</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-50W9_1-xWH0/WQFklFPb0cI/AAAAAAAABBU/ILAWgssfa3gdVr1ZFkuAVsETgrEVq9aIwCLcB/s1600/Sugar%2B%2526%2BGold%2BCover%2BFINAL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-50W9_1-xWH0/WQFklFPb0cI/AAAAAAAABBU/ILAWgssfa3gdVr1ZFkuAVsETgrEVq9aIwCLcB/s320/Sugar%2B%2526%2BGold%2BCover%2BFINAL.jpg" width="210" /></a></div><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-79394482462556046842017-03-21T16:23:00.002-07:002017-03-21T16:24:07.884-07:00Full Tilt now available on Audible!Get it here! ---&gt; http://amzn.to/2o1aK1o<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J8WcOy53V2E/WNG14evPGpI/AAAAAAAAA_g/t_JBh7C3p9oJEdj9qKfbeksO_6rzSUNuQCLcB/s1600/excited%2Blink.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J8WcOy53V2E/WNG14evPGpI/AAAAAAAAA_g/t_JBh7C3p9oJEdj9qKfbeksO_6rzSUNuQCLcB/s1600/excited%2Blink.gif" /></a></div>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-12115485072254121522017-02-28T10:28:00.001-08:002017-02-28T10:28:33.530-08:00The Butterfly Project is live!http://amzn.to/2lN8pcf<br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">"Where you are is home..."</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">At age fourteen, Zelda Rossi witnessed the unthinkable, and has spent the last ten years hardening her heart against the guilt and grief. She channels her pain into her art: a dystopian graphic novel where vigilantes travel back in time to stop heinous crimes—like child abduction—before they happen. Zelda pitches her graphic novel to several big-time comic book publishers in New York City, only to have her hopes crash and burn. Circumstances leave her stranded in an unfamiliar city, and in an embarrassing moment of weakness, she meets a guarded young man with a past he’d do anything to change...</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">Beckett Copeland spent two years in prison for armed robbery, and is now struggling to keep his head above water. A bike messenger by day, he speeds around New York City, riding fast and hard but going nowhere, his criminal record holding him back almost as much as the guilt of his crime.&nbsp;</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">Zelda and Beckett form a grudging alliance of survival, and in between their stubborn clash of wills, they slowly begin to provide each other with the warmth of forgiveness, healing, and maybe even love. But when Zelda and Beckett come face to face with their pasts, they must choose to hold on to the guilt and regret that bind them, or let go and open their hearts for a shot at happiness.&nbsp;</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><b style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">The Butterfly Project is a novel that reveals the power of forgiveness, and how even the smallest decisions of the heart can—like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings—create currents that strengthen into gale winds, altering the course of a life forever.</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">&nbsp;</span>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-56857291852675214372017-02-19T18:15:00.000-08:002017-02-19T18:15:03.140-08:00The Butterfly Project now available for preorder"Where you are is home..."<br /><br />Releases Feb 28<br /><br />http://amzn.to/2lkj8ZY<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xcHD-syHBx4/WKpRE5sG13I/AAAAAAAAA54/jzauA1Na7iUS3NmcCRBoCtyEtxV1sjySwCLcB/s1600/corrected%2BTBP%2Bteaser.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xcHD-syHBx4/WKpRE5sG13I/AAAAAAAAA54/jzauA1Na7iUS3NmcCRBoCtyEtxV1sjySwCLcB/s320/corrected%2BTBP%2Bteaser.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-63243429300831133792016-12-31T10:53:00.001-08:002016-12-31T10:57:56.647-08:00Conditions of the Heart, Part II and 2016 Final ThoughtsThe end of 2016 is upon us and I'm both extremely happy to see it go, and extraordinarily grateful for all that it has brought me. Here are some end of year thoughts...<br /><br />WARNING: sentimental/personal stuff forthcoming. Can't be helped...<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bKfQwTcWX3I/WFmCfUk9G3I/AAAAAAAAA4A/AfJqUeo-B68nB24iqtqnLXF4gNrDLIYYACLcB/s1600/giphy%2B%25281%2529.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bKfQwTcWX3I/WFmCfUk9G3I/AAAAAAAAA4A/AfJqUeo-B68nB24iqtqnLXF4gNrDLIYYACLcB/s320/giphy%2B%25281%2529.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />As some of you might recall, my oldest daughter was diagnosed with a heart condition--Wolff Parkinson White--back in July after a terrifying visit to the ER. I wrote about it here---&gt;<a href="http://emmascottblog.blogspot.com/2016/07/conditions-of-heart-or-why-we-have-to.html">Conditions of the Heart</a>&nbsp; An MRI was taken in late September, the results of which revealed two more disorders. That means her little heart has three separate, unrelated conditions. Three too many.<br /><br />I don't know what all these diagnoses will mean. She's not ill all of the time. Her disorders aren't dangerous until they are, and so it becomes a waiting and watching game. A tiny flicker of fear that burns constantly in my own heart, along with a fervent hope it never roars into something worse.<br /><br />She asks me sometimes why she has these heart issues (and scoliosis) and I have no good answer. She doesn't feel sorry for herself; her hallmark trait is not self-pity, but selflessness toward others. She is a 9 year old champion of homeless people: she gets mad at me if we pass a homeless person and I don't have any cash on me to give to them. She empathizes with kids in her class who are picked on or lonely (though she sometimes falls into that latter category). She once arranged for the school counselor to come and talk to her class about being nice to kids who are emotionally different than they are, to defend a classmate who had been ostracized.<br /><br />She has a big heart, in other words. I just wish her real one was as perfect.<br /><br />But I'm grateful her situation isn't worse. I'm grateful for a lot of things The outpouring of love for my books, not the least of it. &nbsp;The reviews and lists astound me, and I am beyond grateful for the community of readers, friends, and bloggers (most of whom wear all three titles) who have been so good to me. I cannot express enough my gratitude to you. It's a blessing to be able to say, "My work and its community sustain me." I'm so lucky in that respect and I love you all for keeping me afloat, while the fear and panic of my daughter's situation zig-zagged in between, up and down, winding this way and that--a strange roller coaster of high, high climbs and scarily plunging downs. In what other profession would I have this kind of personal, emotional connection? What other job allows for you to sell a product and receive friendship and community in return? It may sound overly sentimental but fuck it. It's the absolute truth.<br /><br />That is one of the greatest gifts and why 2016 was as special as it was scary, uncertain, and a thief of far too many beloved artists.<br /><br />My sincerest wish for all of us in 2017 is that it brings joys that vastly outweighs any lows. I suspect turbulent times are ahead for the world, but we need to stick together, yeah? That's how we get through stuff. That's how I got through...everything, basically, and I hope I can be as much of a help to anyone who needs it in the same way I have been supported. And I have been. By people I have never met face to face, and yet whom I dearly love. I want to take their kindness and my daughter's example of compassion (and always carry cash!) and pay it back in word and by deed, or at the very least, to channel it all into my work. My next book is about the power of forgiveness, of how even small kindnesses can create huge change, and, of course, love.<br /><br />Because love always wins, right? Yes, it damn well does. Always.<br /><br />xoxo,<br />Emma<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-14982606965543360632016-10-23T10:19:00.000-07:002016-10-23T10:19:20.953-07:00The Privilege of PressureOftentimes a writer will be asked about her process, and usually the answer involves something along the lines of, "I outline religiously, write a draft, go through it for X,Y, and Z..." etc. Or it can be summed in one word, "I'm a pantser" (writes by the seat of her pants) or a "planner."<br /><br />Mine can be classified similarly as "a hot mess."<br /><br />Or, my process is I have no process, only a collection of activities that eventually become a finished book. I write scenes out of order, (usually sex scenes first to see how the characters are with each other and... because sexy times)...<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mUrl15rGPSs/WAzpJbmB7jI/AAAAAAAAA1U/28C1Vpc2P8EuJvqafeD0XnHkxYc00F5EQCLcB/s1600/sexy%2Bgif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mUrl15rGPSs/WAzpJbmB7jI/AAAAAAAAA1U/28C1Vpc2P8EuJvqafeD0XnHkxYc00F5EQCLcB/s1600/sexy%2Bgif.gif" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />I outline, and then despair that my outline is hopelessly unworkable; I notecard in an effort to categorize scenes for importance; I type or dictate depending on how badly I'm behind, and eventually a book is cobbled together with lots of love and best intentions and held together with a strong adhesive of sheer panic.<br /><br />Honestly, my editor does double duty as a therapist, getting me through those rough days where EVERYTHING IS SHIT and I just want to quit.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qh0DQZ3eZBo/WAzqBgMGX3I/AAAAAAAAA1Y/XEjKNaz_qpYUWSqOv60sAhAPu-KpXzJsgCLcB/s1600/toilet%2Banxiety.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qh0DQZ3eZBo/WAzqBgMGX3I/AAAAAAAAA1Y/XEjKNaz_qpYUWSqOv60sAhAPu-KpXzJsgCLcB/s320/toilet%2Banxiety.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />But it wasn't always like this!<br /><br />I wrote my first romance novel in 2009, expanding a flash story from a writing contest into a full-fledged book. Then I tucked it away for 5 years. I don't know what prompted me to expand it into a novel, nor why I ignored it for so long. Probably because I was a stay-at-home mom raising two little girls through those tough early years, far away from family to help, and bogged down with sleep deprivation.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RQx1T-zX7tA/WAuq9TJDjqI/AAAAAAAAAzA/TS9Eq1rZlEU7RG7gSFEM1fptXRcaojfrQCLcB/s1600/tired%2Bgif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RQx1T-zX7tA/WAuq9TJDjqI/AAAAAAAAAzA/TS9Eq1rZlEU7RG7gSFEM1fptXRcaojfrQCLcB/s1600/tired%2Bgif.gif" /></a></div><br />In 2014, I emerged from the fog of sleeplessness, cleaned up the book and published it with no fanfare, no marketing plan, no nothing. I told my friends and family and they dutifully bought their copies....And that was sort of it for awhile. I had nothing to lose and my biggest fears were negative reviews. There was no pressure. No readership (aside those loyal friends and family) to impress, and...<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yyd-221QQC0/WAusDKJWb9I/AAAAAAAAAzE/WpUx1wZTcE8x9WSfIvN1EE-aBqdWlNcFgCLcB/s1600/low%2Bexpectation.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yyd-221QQC0/WAusDKJWb9I/AAAAAAAAAzE/WpUx1wZTcE8x9WSfIvN1EE-aBqdWlNcFgCLcB/s320/low%2Bexpectation.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />It was a glorious time, in many respects, as I quickly moved from worrying about negative reviews to wanting <i>any</i> review, and learning that I had a lot to learn about the business. I wasn't worried about sales (lucky thing, that) since it was pretty obvious from the get-go that there was a lot more work I needed to be doing, and refreshing my Amazon page every other minute was not it.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bLtMHxiszzw/WAzqbGsVUiI/AAAAAAAAA1c/BvgPUnYXyCkL-sC5ANV-Eug6JKBWkrdZQCLcB/s1600/waiting%2Bhappily.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bLtMHxiszzw/WAzqbGsVUiI/AAAAAAAAA1c/BvgPUnYXyCkL-sC5ANV-Eug6JKBWkrdZQCLcB/s320/waiting%2Bhappily.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />Shortly after my second book I received a question from a reader on Goodreads, "When would you consider yourself a successful author?" &nbsp;This was my answer:<br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: &quot;lato&quot; , &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , &quot;helvetica&quot; , &quot;arial&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I think "high sales" is the easy answer but not necessarily the whole one. For me, I'd consider myself successful when I had a core group of fans who really enjoyed my books, my characters, who had lively discussions about the various plots, or who looked forward to a book being set in a particular city, or who cast the books with their own ideas of who the characters were.</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: &quot;lato&quot; , &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , &quot;helvetica&quot; , &quot;arial&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Second to writing, I love talking *about* writing, so success to me would be having fans who were really invested in the stories in some way. How many fans or how many books they bought is sort of second to that. :)</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: &quot;lato&quot; , &quot;helvetica neue&quot; , &quot;helvetica&quot; , &quot;arial&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>That was written at a very early time in my career and sometimes wonder if it was a naive thing to write, as my ambitions extend pretty far and wide as to where I want to go in this industry.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fkf0zkKV6tM/WAut2cU8BdI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/mYvg3OGOyKURPRdThNKbCc0Wvnxf7dsWACLcB/s1600/veruca%2Bsalkt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fkf0zkKV6tM/WAut2cU8BdI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/mYvg3OGOyKURPRdThNKbCc0Wvnxf7dsWACLcB/s320/veruca%2Bsalkt.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />But the essence of the answer is 100% completely true. I've achieved what I hoped for when I answered that question. I have an amazing bunch of readers who support me and my work beyond anything I'd ever hoped for. They are invested, and that is a gift to me.<br /><br />And because I love staying close to my readers, many are highly aware of my HOT MESS process, and how I stress out and get neurotic, with posts and comments I make on my author page or fan group, to the point that they're probably over it.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6FtVzGktjM/WAuvs7pDI8I/AAAAAAAAAzk/rOKvTBereSMyDg3W2tXlS5v4HA64NdwawCLcB/s1600/shut%2Bup.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s6FtVzGktjM/WAuvs7pDI8I/AAAAAAAAAzk/rOKvTBereSMyDg3W2tXlS5v4HA64NdwawCLcB/s320/shut%2Bup.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />But the struggle is real. Since that first novel that I blissfully drop-kicked into the sea of ebooks, my nerves and anxiety ratchet up higher and higher with every book I write. I thought <i>How to Save a Life </i>would kill me, and the reason, I learned was that those expectations weren't so low anymore. At least not to me. So many readers loved <i>RUSH</i> (and Noah), and were so looking forward to what I did next, that I felt this tremendous pressure to not let them down, esp since HTSAL was a little different plot-wise.<br /><br />HTSAL did quite well. My biggest hit, if I'm being honest, and so the anxiety jumped up as I prepared to release a novel--<i>Full Tilt</i>--with no conventional HEA. Then it rocketed to stratospheric heights with <i>All In</i>. Readers loved Jonah so much, that the idea of taking Kacey from him to Theo believably, honestly, and without leaving Jonah behind was a massive challenge. I woke up every single morning with anxiety twisting in my guts.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VFkaF3y6yzE/WAuxOw8mlvI/AAAAAAAAAz4/Vtkhk_VkhacPeOKACkwJ_h6ikOAEsucdACLcB/s1600/anxiety.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VFkaF3y6yzE/WAuxOw8mlvI/AAAAAAAAAz4/Vtkhk_VkhacPeOKACkwJ_h6ikOAEsucdACLcB/s320/anxiety.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />It took my editor/therapist, Suanne Laqueur, and Robin Hill--she of the miracle emails--to drag my ass out of the Pit of Despair and keep going. to stop second-guessing every damn word, and just put out What Happened with Kacey and Theo. I did, and by some miracle, the readers--by and large--feel as if I've accomplished what I set out to do. Huge sigh of relief, to say the least.<br /><br />But after every book I publish I vow to not let the anxiety get me, and every time it does. (no doubt enhanced by the fact I play chicken with deadlines). So I started to wonder how I might avoid such panic next time around.<br /><br />Short answer: &nbsp;<i>stop playing chicken with deadlines </i>and give myself some breathing room. Granted, Real Life intervened quite spectacularly around the time of <i>All In</i>, but even so..<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RvBmOg-O8jY/WAzr8pDME8I/AAAAAAAAA1o/ZDlVz7PC4zwbiNEoKFvZEaUXAs50KPF4gCLcB/s1600/procrasination.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RvBmOg-O8jY/WAzr8pDME8I/AAAAAAAAA1o/ZDlVz7PC4zwbiNEoKFvZEaUXAs50KPF4gCLcB/s320/procrasination.jpg" width="277" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />But <i>Full Til</i>t wasn't rushed at all and I still had ridiculous amounts of anxiety, and I wondered if that was normal. Does every writer freak out like this? I suspect the answer is yes to greater or lesser degrees, and they're just better at hiding it. But it didn't make me <i>feel</i> any better about it until one night I was watching Sunday night football.<br /><br />Colts' QB Andrew Luck was asked about the $129 bazillion dollar contract he just signed, and did that made him feel as if the pressure was on more so than before? He said no, the pressure to perform was about the same because every game counts yadda yadda. But then he threw an offhand comment about a coach who told him that pressure is privilege. That it means there have been accomplishments that one wants to build off of. That there is something at stake.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H1wLg478Vj4/WAuzOB30c1I/AAAAAAAAA0M/SfW_b5fUKYc82Xdp1ZRiVykMWXlDCVuJACLcB/s1600/preach.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H1wLg478Vj4/WAuzOB30c1I/AAAAAAAAA0M/SfW_b5fUKYc82Xdp1ZRiVykMWXlDCVuJACLcB/s320/preach.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />YASSSSSS.<br /><br />When I hit publish on my first book, there was nothing at stake. No name, no readers, no sales stats to compare to. And yes, it was fabulously stress-free. But I would not go back to that kind of stressless existence if I had a chance, becauseI realize now that crazy-ass pressure is a privilege. It means there is something at stake where there hadn't been before.<br /><br />To be clear, the pressure to do right by my readers doesn't come <i>from </i>my readers. They are patient and overly generous with support. It comes from within, and is there for a good cause. It's a kind of gift that people are waiting to see what I'll do next and I if they're paying for the book, it had better be my best effort, stress and all.<br /><br />Pressure is privilege, and the day I start cranking out a book and not giving a shit how it lands, or just for a sale is the day I need to start looking at doing something else. Like this, maybe.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JqBS0zpOU-Q/WAu52Ph22lI/AAAAAAAAA00/LCdHXyqi1l8EJYvjiX1-XEWNNyUrdgKcgCLcB/s1600/basket%2Bweaving.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JqBS0zpOU-Q/WAu52Ph22lI/AAAAAAAAA00/LCdHXyqi1l8EJYvjiX1-XEWNNyUrdgKcgCLcB/s1600/basket%2Bweaving.gif" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />xoxo,<br />Emma<br /><br /><br /><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-77036858720869214132016-10-12T10:15:00.002-07:002016-10-12T10:15:57.882-07:00All In is Live!<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-STROFRNJF9o/V_5vnSbELDI/AAAAAAAAAyo/E-h7140FLZYkDafPeZAmzk2W3V3rZJ_WgCLcB/s1600/tatto%2Bman%2Bteaser.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="189" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-STROFRNJF9o/V_5vnSbELDI/AAAAAAAAAyo/E-h7140FLZYkDafPeZAmzk2W3V3rZJ_WgCLcB/s320/tatto%2Bman%2Bteaser.png" width="320" /></a></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><div>"I am overjoyed and my heart is beyond happy. This is a Masterpiece! One I will never forget!"--&nbsp;<b>AC Book Blog</b></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span><b>*</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">"All in was a wonderful conclusion to one of the best duets of the year...This story of finding love and happiness after suffering the most painful of losses was truly beautifully written."--<b>Aestas Book Blog</b></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><div>*</div><div><span><b></b></span></div><div><span>"</span><span>This story had moments that were devastating. It also had moments that brought me hope and gave me peace....</span><span>I was in emotional overload and I loved every second.</span><span>&nbsp;"&nbsp;<b>--Christy Baldwin, top Goodreads Reviewer</b></span></div></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span><b>*</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span>"Perfection! 5+++ stars! The author did everything right with this story. Nothing was rushed. All of the stages of grief and the complex emotions the characters were feeling, &nbsp;were well developed and she did an amazing job at not only articulating them, but actually making the reader FEEL them."--<b>More Books Please&nbsp;</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span><b>*</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span>"The development of their relationship is stunning, heart-wrenching and devastatingly beautiful. It's a deliciously slow burn and you can't help but root for them."--<b>Vanilla and Spice Books</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">*</div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span>"Three words to describe this book: Empathic. Fluid. True...There was only one way to have written this story and that Emma wrote the heck out of it. It, simply, was perfection." --<b>Bibi, Top Goodreads Reviewer&nbsp;</b></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span><b>*</b></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"></span><br /><div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">"Everything about the two of them just felt so real. What an absolutely amazing and beautiful story about loss, friendship, love and moving on.<b>" --Three Chicks and Their Books</b></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Amazon US:&nbsp;</span><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F2eno13M&amp;h=YAQF4BlBk&amp;enc=AZNODs6orRMeCQ6tRSJRWRl0Kyl2i__UB8NpaohGwBDXXytKnVSnds1TgWTUHLhsf5BsdL_Hpg0U323mCYQfWkiBZdmtKwx2n2KV1NhvTPjyctu6jyJljv5Ad6a11TQkh6etNdq2fTBko4lCw5WJuguV&amp;s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://amzn.to/2eno13M</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Amazon Universal:&nbsp;</span><a href="http://mybook.to/EmmaScottAllIn" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">myBook.to/EmmaScottAllIn</a>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-36325991509127092072016-09-10T22:22:00.004-07:002016-09-10T22:22:51.480-07:00All In (Full Tilt #2) now available for preorder!<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">Reeling from her loss, Kacey Dawson is grieving and heartbroken, her addictive demons hauling her back into the alcohol-soaked abyss she worked so hard to crawl out of. Kacey teeters on the edge of oblivion, and must fight her way through the pain, to build a new life for herself with her music, and somehow fulfill the promise she made to Jonah…one she feels is impossible to keep.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">Theo Fletcher has a secret burning in his heart, one that he holds close, while he struggles to keep strong for his family that is falling apart. His mother’s health is fragile and his father’s disapproval is breaking him down. Theo is afraid if he follows his heart, he’ll fail, and not just himself, but his brother who believed in him when no one else did.&nbsp;</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">Drawn together by their pain, Theo and Kacey slowly build a friendship, re-forge old ties, help each other to heal, and give one another the courage to reach for their dreams. Together, from the depths of grief and guilt, they learn to laugh again, to trust again, and quite possibly find something beautiful and lasting amid the shattered pieces of their broken hearts.&nbsp;</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">Part II of the two-part Full Tilt duet, coming Oct 2016</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">PLEASE NOTE, this novel is NOT a standalone. It is highly recommended one read Full Tilt first to get the entire arc of the story and to avoid spoilers.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">http://amzn.to/2c8tJ4E</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JynhVGSQ2P4/V9Tp7XYPWaI/AAAAAAAAAvc/6M98majvdoAlXPexwPa03KRH6OvKT8T0gCLcB/s1600/ALL%2BIN%2Bcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JynhVGSQ2P4/V9Tp7XYPWaI/AAAAAAAAAvc/6M98majvdoAlXPexwPa03KRH6OvKT8T0gCLcB/s320/ALL%2BIN%2Bcover.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-47652036965916053392016-08-23T20:09:00.002-07:002016-08-23T20:09:48.105-07:00<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px;">(¯`•.•´¯) (¯`•.•´¯)<br />*`•.¸(¯`•.•´¯)¸.•´&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i><br />☆&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i>&nbsp;`•.¸.•´&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i>&nbsp;º ☆.¸¸.•´¯`<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i>&nbsp;All In cover reveal!&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i>&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i>&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i>&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i>&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i>&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i>&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i>&nbsp;<i class="_3kkw" style="background-image: url(&quot;https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/uac/1/16/2665.png&quot;); background-size: 16px 16px; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;"><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px 1px 1px 1px); height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; white-space: nowrap; width: 1px;">♥</span></i></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">Goodreads TBR link:&nbsp;<a href="http://bit.ly/1sKupoN" rel="nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/1sKupoN</a></div><div class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 6px;">PLEASE BE ADVISED, the synopsis below contains potential SPOILERS for those of you who have not yet read Full Tilt.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">Synopsis:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">Reeling from her loss, Kacey Dawson is grieving and heartbroken, and her addictive demons have hauled her back into the alcohol-soaked abyss she worked so hard to crawl out of. Kacey teeters on the edge of oblivion, and must fight her way through the pain, to build a new life for herself with her music, and somehow fulfill the promise she made to Jonah…one that she feels is impossible to keep.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">Theo Fletcher has a secret burning in his heart, one that he holds close, while he struggles to keep strong for his family that is falling apart. His mother’s health is fragile and his father’s disapproval is breaking him down. Theo is afraid if he follows his heart, he’ll fail, and not just himself, but his brother who believed in him when no one else did.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">Drawn together by their pain, Theo and Kacey slowly build a friendship, re-forge old ties, help each other to heal, and give one another the courage to reach for their dreams. Together, from the depths of grief and guilt, they learn to laugh again, to trust again, and quite possibly find something beautiful and lasting amid the shattered pieces of their broken hearts.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sIAwGfTwW0w/V70P9XguFjI/AAAAAAAAAu4/9LJ6dYKA8T8zN2AHAyG4TaJJXRoJDwL2gCLcB/s1600/ALL%2BIN%2Bcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sIAwGfTwW0w/V70P9XguFjI/AAAAAAAAAu4/9LJ6dYKA8T8zN2AHAyG4TaJJXRoJDwL2gCLcB/s320/ALL%2BIN%2Bcover.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;"><br /></div></div>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-91558675744867234842016-07-29T14:08:00.002-07:002016-07-29T14:08:29.322-07:00Conditions of the Heart, or why we have to tell THAT story...Note: This isn't entirely, 100% a post about books or writing, but more about highly personal stuff that is <i>related </i>to writing, so if you'd rather just read about book news n' stuff, (and that's totally understandable) quit reading now. To my subscribers, I'm sorry; I don't know how to make this post-only.<br /><br /><br />I was debating whether to write this or not and found out that I really can't get any writing done on All In until I do. It's just on my mind, this topic, and won't get out until I purge the only way I know how.<br /><br />***SPOILER FOR FULL TILT***<br /><br /><i>Full Tilt </i>is a book about a guy with a very serious heart condition, one that eventually proves fatal. As stated elsewhere, this story wasn't on the agenda. I had other books lined up, but FT was stubborn and muscled its way in and so I wrote it. The upshot or "message" I sought to convey was one of hope and resilience in the face of death, and the enduring power of love that everyone deserves no matter what stage of life they are in.<br /><br />The bones and structure of FT are extensive research on heart conditions and transplant rejection, while the blood and guts of it is the message to live life fully, and love completely. Full tilt, no stops.<br /><br />I hit publish, and began work on the sequel, in which the message here is that love, in infinite quantities, lives in all of us, and should be celebrated, not tucked away or neglected because one has loved and lost before. And this was all well and good, and all safely contained in a fictional Las Vegas, and soon to be fictional New Orleans.<br /><br />Then five nights ago, my 8 year old daughter complained of a rapid heart rate. I could see it, jumping in the hollow of her throat, and feel it in the pounding beneath my hand when I touched her chest.<br /><br />We had just moved across town, and Stanford Lucille Packard Children's Hospital was now a two minute drive away. I frantically drove her to the ER while the hubs stayed home with our 5 yo. My eldest was rushed in, set up, monitors attached, and the screen showed a heart rate that was in the 220-230 beats per minute (bpm), with no signs of slowing. All the while, she was a trooper; a little scared, a little light-headed, but still able to walk, talk, etc.<br /><br />The AMAZING doctors and nursing staff at Stanford tried all kinds of tricks to stimulate the vagal nerve and bring her pulse down: having her blow into a tube, cold icepacks on the face, etc, and nothing worked. That left the only option of taking a medicine via IV that 'restarts' the heart rhythm. As a precaution, defibrillators were attached to her chest and back, and a cardiac crash team gathered around the bed in the event that the medicine did more than just slow her heart rate, if you catch my meaning.<br /><br />Fortunately, the medicine did what it needed to do, and her pulse came down to the 120 area, which is normal for a child her age and size. The cardiologist took a look at her readings and confirmed my daughter has a rare heart condition called Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome.<br /><br /><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolff%E2%80%93Parkinson%E2%80%93White_syndrome">WPW</a>&nbsp; &lt;---link about the syndrome for the curious<br /><br />This condition is not as dangerous as others but it comes with its own set of complications, risks, and issues. We were released that night around 3 am with a prescription for beta blockers and and appt. with docs on Monday to assess the best course of action going forward.<br /><br />So here I am, having written about a guy with a heart condition in the blithely detached manner by which we can write about all kinds of issues that we have no personal experience with. Because that's what we do. We make shit up. But maybe, just maybe, certain topics--topics that feel like we have no say in writing about--feel that way because deep down we needed to hear the lessons of those stories out loud.<br /><br />I think I did.<br /><br />If there is some driving force or that "everything happens for a reason" then I guess I can say it was meant to be that I wrote FT because its message is no longer merely an ideal I held close and believed in, but now my waking reality.<br /><br />I treat everyday with my daughter as something special. She slept in our bed for the first two nights after the hospital, and we fell asleep holding hands, with me listening to her breathe. We're closer now. I don't get frustrated or impatient over little things anymore. I flow affection toward her in waves, I tell her--and her little sister, and my husband--that I love them whenever the urge to say it comes to mind. (And that's a lot.) We don't live every day in fear--she's under the best care and not in immediate danger anyway--we strive to live in joy.<br /><br />We moved, a week prior to all this, from a small apartment in a crappy part of town with a train in the backyard, to a beautiful, big condo on gorgeous grounds filled with greenery and flowers, and a pool. For the first two days, I walked around our new place thinking I'd take post pics of our new dining room (something I'd never had before) or the view outside every window, or a shot of my very own office that I'm sitting in right now.<br /><br />Now, while I'm still appreciative of where we are now, and how hard we worked to get here, it pales in comparison to my daughter's health. What the hell is a new dining room table to that?<br /><br />They say that art imitates life. In my case, life imitated art. But I'm not sure I believe in coincidences. I think writers (and all other artists) are speaking with more than just brain synapses and keyboard strokes. The universe told me to put my money where my mouth is. So I did. I will.<br /><br />Love,<br />ES<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-69185577605169726312016-07-10T10:55:00.001-07:002016-07-10T11:00:11.668-07:00What's up with that hashtag?Several people have wondered/asked about/were annoyed or confused with the #nocancer hashtag I have affixed to the synopsis of Full Tilt. No, I'm not going to take it down, as I put it there for a specific reason but I will explain that reason to hopefully clear up any of the above confusion or upset.<br /><br />Firstly, a (hopefully unnecessary) disclaimer: It's not a knock on other "cancer books". There are many powerful books written where one (or more) of the main protagonists are stricken with the disease. I have read the first three that probably come to mind if you're a romance/YA reader, and have loved all three. I didn't put the #nocancer in there to thumb my nose at any other book that might tackle such a subject. That should go without saying but I'm saying it anyway.<br /><br />That's NOT why that hashtag is there.<br />Here's why it IS there.<br /><br />Cancer is an epidemic. It may not sweep through cities like a plague but it's prolific enough that most of us know at least one person who has been touched by it, directly or indirectly, up close and personal or anecdotally, a family member or friend, or friend of a friend... It's fucking awful. It takes many insidious shapes and forms, and the warriors who battle it are brave and heroic, and <i>numerous</i>. Because it is so endemic, I didn't want to write about it. I wrote Full Tilt as an homage to the people who love and are loved until their last breath, and I hoped that because Jonah's illness is something a little more rare, a little more removed from the norm, it would help to give a cushion for readers who might already be dealing with life and death scenarios. My intent was to tell a love story that says, "Any one of us, no matter where (or when) we are in life, deserve love" and to do it honestly. To not shy away from grief or the terrible reality that sometimes the illness cannot be defeated, but to at the very least make that illness a sort of a stranger instead of the common phantom cancer seems to be.<br /><br />There's another hashtag in my synopsis: #tearjerker <br /><br />This is there to dispel the notion that because this book has #nocancer it is does not deal with death. It does. It is both a book that has no cancer, but is <i>also</i> a tearjerker and I had hoped--maybe naively--that this would indicate to readers what kind of a story they were getting in to. Maybe it didn't work. Maybe adding #nocancer somehow negated the effects of #tearjerker? I don't know, but I do know the number of people who have told me they were glad this book was cancer-free despite the ending outnumbers those who are upset about the hashtag. However, as I'd prefer that NO ONE be upset over a hashtag, I'm offering this explanation.<br /><br />And lastly, I did not set out to write a book where someone dies specifically NOT from cancer. It was not premeditated; the hashtag and everything you just read was born out of the fact that Jonah had--and had always had--a heart condition. The story comes first. The ramifications come second. So while everything I just explained about why #nocancer is true, it also comes AFTER the fact. The story comes first. I'm always going to tell the story I need to tell. The hashtags were my effort to NOT dupe the reader into embarking on a journey that might be too difficult straight out the gate. Maybe the message failed some people but my intentions were good, I promise. <br /><br />Xoxo<br />ES<br /><br /><br /><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-63484630037087560342016-06-29T20:47:00.000-07:002016-06-29T20:47:08.840-07:00Full Tilt is now live!<br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;">Amazon:&nbsp;</span><a href="http://amzn.to/1t5AzQ7" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://amzn.to/1t5AzQ7</a><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;">Amazon AU:&nbsp;</span><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Famzn.to%2F28XWofm&amp;h=9AQFN981gAQGkLPDDQesWkM7a1M_1eVeTaXtjJgYMNt9ing&amp;enc=AZPWSGqHGPhrlp4jGOVVJa2TOor71L0NZlU0zzu7N-zz5t3C8FoNolLT_Xcg9ruEhkg4yvyZpFtMh-Lr-dc882YUgqpeEo7Uklpt45lip7m3uD9tDoR4HI3Njz8I29OAYZof221HHNHG2JvhjoO3HFb2ZiGiwnE27qAqd5WrVJxiuJdY7bmbc-bEXlhh_J1GGi8X_wnOD13isDITnyfLG8md&amp;s=1" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #365899; cursor: pointer; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://amzn.to/28XWofm</a><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;"><br />Amazon Universal:&nbsp;<a href="http://mybook.to/FullTiltEmmaScott" rel="nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">myBook.to/FullTiltEmmaScott</a><br />BN:&nbsp;<a href="http://bit.ly/FullTiltBN" rel="nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/FullTiltBN</a><br />iBooks:&nbsp;<a href="http://apple.co/28VZV99" rel="nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://apple.co/28VZV99</a><br />Smashwords:&nbsp;<a href="http://bit.ly/298Fl8z" rel="nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/298Fl8z</a><br />Kobo:&nbsp;<a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fbit.ly%2F298ENiT&amp;h=TAQEArXLdAQE_fIzcC0Ge5cfJNDyFEx5DK4jSU5COwRoZRw&amp;enc=AZOVJFOfLyAB5vGcgtqmI2qUdyDtrjQeMhZbyPoxNwmC3AS98zvnP38DMfKRtNQqoVkSJbmgjGl6-e7BNmNrqSx7eTwAxHyyEDKW4LP6uy9Ewg8DZDaWzMHk_BgRpUMX7a6rTK9JVAUDjOnPq4FnYTj9WXNxSlou26pNxohrduk50h9i5e3GZncZanniJki1VY0NimxXWWKD3pXxQxmYl-t0&amp;s=1" rel="nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/298ENiT</a></span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2d23eD577IU/V3SWNuMhLKI/AAAAAAAAAuE/WNWh7F6_LcE-oc5tsFdPegehNPybLSlkQCLcB/s1600/large%2BFT%2Bcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2d23eD577IU/V3SWNuMhLKI/AAAAAAAAAuE/WNWh7F6_LcE-oc5tsFdPegehNPybLSlkQCLcB/s320/large%2BFT%2Bcover.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-7229444287260720802016-06-27T13:37:00.000-07:002016-06-27T19:01:49.818-07:00Full Tilt...a trust exercise with myselfHere we are again, on the eve of another book release. And once again, it's NOT <i>Beside You in the Moonlight. </i>Or "the Paris book." Or the "That Which is Perpetually On Hold."<br /><br />Poor thing.<br /><br />I have 25K words written and it even has a cover! But something shifted for me when I wrote <i>How to Save a Life. </i>That book scared the crap out of me (more so than usual when it comes to the prospect of putting one's babies out into the world.) At the time, it felt so weird and different, and I was plagued with insecurity and nerves.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c7_6LSXOkYY/V3FnlVbITJI/AAAAAAAAAo8/vUDLr-Y9ctwhNWj2AUQmJAP6mSZW7LZugCLcB/s1600/anxiety%2Bgif.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c7_6LSXOkYY/V3FnlVbITJI/AAAAAAAAAo8/vUDLr-Y9ctwhNWj2AUQmJAP6mSZW7LZugCLcB/s320/anxiety%2Bgif.webp" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />But no risk, no reward and such. I persevered with the help of my intrepid editor (more on her later) and HTSAL was ultimately well-worth the stress. But it also made a lasting impression on me as a writer. Like some kind of junkie, I <i>wanted </i>that stress again. That two-in-the-morning, tired AF, living off coffee and text messages from aforementioned editor, and wallowing in OMG WHAT WILL THEY THINK? kind of stress.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EGUp48TMkxc/V3Fo5SH1y3I/AAAAAAAAApM/2aUvd_74GPwCDUoeZeF3kUWucxoTMkEEgCLcB/s1600/coffee%2Bgif.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EGUp48TMkxc/V3Fo5SH1y3I/AAAAAAAAApM/2aUvd_74GPwCDUoeZeF3kUWucxoTMkEEgCLcB/s1600/coffee%2Bgif.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />The Paris book just felt too safe. It's not a bad story, and might get written some day but after HTSAL was not that day. I wanted to be scared shitless again...but with better time management.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8KvAMeDd6N4/V3FqIOCGyCI/AAAAAAAAApg/NdWz5ZEszsIbCELYWC40K5u0ut2oDKh6wCLcB/s1600/procrastination%2Bgif.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8KvAMeDd6N4/V3FqIOCGyCI/AAAAAAAAApg/NdWz5ZEszsIbCELYWC40K5u0ut2oDKh6wCLcB/s1600/procrastination%2Bgif.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><br /><i>RUSH</i> was born of an 'overheard conversation I had while on a run. HTSAL came from an image of a bruised guy in a pool and a goth girl asking him who did that to him. <i>Full Tilt </i>was born of a combination of image and dialogue. I saw a guy in hospital bed telling a girl that she was a universe. There was more to it than that, but for spoiler reasons, I'm not going to elaborate. Suffice to say, the resulting storyline didn't exactly scream 'romance.' But it sure was scary for a fresh variety of reasons, and therefore...<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5RJiTPppGkM/V3FqcgcJaNI/AAAAAAAAApo/uo9aBulvryAt9EMlaQbcITgGd3Cz4BltACLcB/s1600/perfect.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5RJiTPppGkM/V3FqcgcJaNI/AAAAAAAAApo/uo9aBulvryAt9EMlaQbcITgGd3Cz4BltACLcB/s1600/perfect.jpeg" /></a></div><br />I love writing about artists. Every single character in every single book I've written has had an artist for either one or both MCs. (The only deviation being <i>Unbreakable&nbsp;</i>but in that instance, Cory works in construction, building things with his sexy man-hands so that totally counts) &nbsp;I knew FT was going to be set in Vegas and as soon as I had that locked in, I knew what Jonah's art would be. The ceiling of the Bellagio is a very real example of the glass art of Dale Chihuly. I saw it for the first time several years ago on a trip to Vegas and it stayed with me ever since. A piece of exquisite art in a city better know for ostentation than delicacy. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eNJjBOIibLY/V3FrgOXobuI/AAAAAAAAAqA/RupYrt-Vu7gS0_tzXuJ029jo0bqOpjvagCLcB/s1600/bellaiog.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eNJjBOIibLY/V3FrgOXobuI/AAAAAAAAAqA/RupYrt-Vu7gS0_tzXuJ029jo0bqOpjvagCLcB/s1600/bellaiog.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0XAvikL3tfA/V3FrmiKMc4I/AAAAAAAAAqI/jsPhyQPLcj89lRzjFkhpGX3zp61zkA1swCLcB/s1600/bellagio%2Bii.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0XAvikL3tfA/V3FrmiKMc4I/AAAAAAAAAqI/jsPhyQPLcj89lRzjFkhpGX3zp61zkA1swCLcB/s1600/bellagio%2Bii.jpeg" /></a></div><br />To an artist living in Las Vegas, I felt that art would have the most impact on someone like Jonah, and so his craft was born.<br /><br />At the other end of the spectrum from delicate glass, I thought, was loud rock n' roll. Kacey's art is the polar opposite of Jonah's as these characters themselves are polar opposites. (On the surface anyway.) &nbsp;Bringing these two together was all the anxiety I could handle (and apparently craved) but not for the reasons one might suspect.<br /><br />In the case of FT, the getting-to-know you bits was a ton more headache than anything that came at the end. (that was heartache, but not stress). Plotting the progression of two people falling in love is the hardest part, imho, and I credit the amazing author L.B. Simmons for walking me back from that ledge, thank you very much. When you read the same conversation eight million times, it not only loses its spark, it starts to look (and smell) like a dead fish, and I was quite certain that every reader would feel the same way.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mZzhiOPgiPw/V3F15u93ntI/AAAAAAAAAq0/BPgaNNXxBdg2iwbzEbmtN9D288olUosaACLcB/s1600/bored.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mZzhiOPgiPw/V3F15u93ntI/AAAAAAAAAq0/BPgaNNXxBdg2iwbzEbmtN9D288olUosaACLcB/s320/bored.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />I must've spent at least two solid weeks on the first 20% of the book. That was the first half of stress. The ending was the second half. Not the actual writing of it; that flowed somewhat smoothly (though I avoided That Scene until literally every other scene--including the epilogue--had been written). But what it would mean to certain readers who are going through very serious situations. I felt that if I was going to tackle this subject, it would have to be done with dignity and authenticity. And I was also concerned whether my ultimate message was going to come through or not.<br /><br />Writers come in all shapes and sizes, and each have their own angst, neuroses, fears, blocks, etc. Mine is a case of picking difficult shit to write and then complaining that it's difficult.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TnwzUJgmP3Q/V3F3gD-pYVI/AAAAAAAAArI/T6imbBKeZcESPpt4ls37NTvw78LXRPXBACLcB/s1600/roll.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TnwzUJgmP3Q/V3F3gD-pYVI/AAAAAAAAArI/T6imbBKeZcESPpt4ls37NTvw78LXRPXBACLcB/s320/roll.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />Just ask my editor. Suanne Laqueur edits, cleans up messes, lures out moments from their hiding places ("This is a thing!") fixes the bits that have too many damn words, all the while acting as a personal psychologist. Being (a supremely talented) writer herself, she understands the angst which is a bizarre mix of 'I can't write this, they're going to hate it' and 'if I don't write this, I'll die.' It's a constant battle, ego vs self-doubt, Veruca Salt-level need for approval vs. "there is nothing I'd rather do on this earth, even if no one ever read a word."<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0TdDlOIL6Xs/V3GGLIOjf8I/AAAAAAAAArs/au1AU8Ajv0o052rSohvypHaASyTuJuj4gCLcB/s1600/accurate.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0TdDlOIL6Xs/V3GGLIOjf8I/AAAAAAAAArs/au1AU8Ajv0o052rSohvypHaASyTuJuj4gCLcB/s1600/accurate.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><br />I love my editor to the stars and back. She is a universe. She is not afraid to tear up my MS to shreds because she knows I have my Big Girl Panties on and can take it. Moreover, I <i>want</i>&nbsp;it. I want to improve and learn and become a smarter writer.&nbsp;My chapters go out neat and come back looking like this:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SUHIIuzaXTA/V3GGzKNXrrI/AAAAAAAAAr0/pPu9vb-FhCY9M2wWlR2roDxaVHDmvMCUQCLcB/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-27%2Bat%2B1.03.52%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SUHIIuzaXTA/V3GGzKNXrrI/AAAAAAAAAr0/pPu9vb-FhCY9M2wWlR2roDxaVHDmvMCUQCLcB/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-27%2Bat%2B1.03.52%2BPM.png" width="306" /></a></div><br /><br />Because they should. I don't take every suggestion, or accept every change, but I <i>do</i>&nbsp;leave most of my darlings dead on the floor* where she left them. Every writer should be so lucky to have an editor as merciless and compassionate as mine. But not her. &nbsp;She's mine. MINE, I tell you!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2GhzcgiM3XU/V3GILHu5WCI/AAAAAAAAAsM/Gso-usxrXWMfplhnrH_MQqh0J-xliVeBACLcB/s1600/mine.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2GhzcgiM3XU/V3GILHu5WCI/AAAAAAAAAsM/Gso-usxrXWMfplhnrH_MQqh0J-xliVeBACLcB/s1600/mine.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><br />Also MINE with a capital M is Melissa Panio-Petersen. My PA though she's more like the artistic director for my books. Not only has she done a zillion gorgeous teasers and graphics, but she also designed the cover. Which I am thoroughly in love with. Something about the book and her artistic sensibilities just clicked, and she created such beautiful work that fit the novel to a T. She's also designed the cover for All In and I'm counting the days to that cover reveal, it's so damn beautiful. Love you. MPP. &nbsp;Obviously.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-03qa3OPQcxI/V3G8oDzz9tI/AAAAAAAAAtY/ysb1reRVKbor6cdhK1zAlYhEctyuCwVLwCLcB/s1600/obviusly.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-03qa3OPQcxI/V3G8oDzz9tI/AAAAAAAAAtY/ysb1reRVKbor6cdhK1zAlYhEctyuCwVLwCLcB/s320/obviusly.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br />Where was I? Or yes. Process. Mine that is nutso. But there's a method to my madness, in that I feel if an idea doesn't challenge me, I can't get as fired up about it. Hence, the Paris book languishing. The challenge of FT was bringing these people together in a slow, believable manner, and then resolving the end in an uplifting manner despite the circumstances.<br /><br /><i>How</i> to do that was the stress, but the<i> reason</i> for doing it was quite easy. I firmly believe that every single person deserves to love and be loved, no matter where they are in their life--beginning, middle, end. We write a lot about the Early Middle Ages--people in their 20's--40's, but tragedy, poor health, or accidents can strike any time, and do. All too often. When the idea for <i>Full Tilt </i>came to mind, it wasn't just to write a tearjerker. It had to be married to the idea that loving someone--no matter what stage of life--is worth it. To he that is loved, and to she that loves, and vice-versa. That the pain is worth it, and because <i>that is life.&nbsp;</i><br /><br />Does it have an HEA? Absolutely. At least half of one, even if I can't bill it that way. FT was scary to write but I have learned to trust myself that the stories that are hardest to write offer the most emotional rewards. The messages from readers--private and otherwise--and the reviews have shown me that. Not high ratings (I'm not crazy/stupid enough to think I've written something everyone is going to love) but the highly personal nature of the feedback so far has been so special to me. No matter what happens, after tomorrow, this was the best of what I've written--to me--in every way.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hFnlXPSO5CU/V3GZlmTJcxI/AAAAAAAAAtA/EpvsWprkC2gC35AUrXAp_QK6EuqEmvYdwCLcB/s1600/FT%2Bteaser.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hFnlXPSO5CU/V3GZlmTJcxI/AAAAAAAAAtA/EpvsWprkC2gC35AUrXAp_QK6EuqEmvYdwCLcB/s320/FT%2Bteaser.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><br /><br />And All In, the sequel, poses its own set of challenges. How to take a broken heart. mend it, and possibly love again with just as much power as before. I'm scared to write that but I will, and I won't publish it until I've accomplished my goals set forth therein.<br /><br />And I won't try to rush it. My first inclination was to get it out as soon as possible to complete the Full Tilt story, but A. I don't want to put out some rushed hack-job, and B. (and this will sound really weird) but out of respect for Jonah, there needs some time passage for me, for the fictional characters who live in my heart, and for the readers too.<br /><br />Speaking of readers, I love you guys. I am so incredibly fucking blessed to be doing this with the love and support of My People. The bloggers, readers, friends...I do a lot of giveaways on my page because I can't think of how else I can possibly show my gratitude to you. As Jonah might say, I can try, but I never will. You guys are my universe, and I will NEVER stop telling you that. After all, you put up with my particular brand of Crazy Writer Person...<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DrDY5-BIEto/V3GK1kp_VsI/AAAAAAAAAso/MOe0qFWkkaEivYNDsIS-b0lif0Ye5ZQywCLcB/s1600/crazy%2Bwriter.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DrDY5-BIEto/V3GK1kp_VsI/AAAAAAAAAso/MOe0qFWkkaEivYNDsIS-b0lif0Ye5ZQywCLcB/s320/crazy%2Bwriter.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br />&nbsp;...and you make every second worth it. &lt;3<br /><br />ES<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*&nbsp;<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: &quot;merriweather&quot; , &quot;georgia&quot; , serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.”--Stephen King, from <i>On Writing</i></span>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-60976649610874827052016-06-07T21:58:00.002-07:002016-06-07T21:58:33.980-07:00Full Tilt now available for preorder!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fMBChRXLt28/V1el7eENNzI/AAAAAAAAAk0/Ksi3wxWhP9YFvLcS7PEKVtaFSV6OdTfnwCLcB/s1600/cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fMBChRXLt28/V1el7eENNzI/AAAAAAAAAk0/Ksi3wxWhP9YFvLcS7PEKVtaFSV6OdTfnwCLcB/s320/cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">Amazon:&nbsp;<a href="http://amzn.to/1t5AzQ7" rel="nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://amzn.to/1t5AzQ7</a></div>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-49955231260730730422016-05-21T01:19:00.000-07:002016-05-21T01:19:02.251-07:00Full Tilt, (Full Tilt #1) Cover reveal!<span aria-live="polite" class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{&quot;tn&quot;:&quot;K&quot;}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: &quot;helvetica&quot; , &quot;arial&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; outline: none; width: auto;" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"></span></span><br /><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_57400accd392c6c85326816" style="display: inline;">✯✯Cover Reveal + Giveaway✯✯<br /><br />Full Tilt by Emma Scott</div><div><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="display: inline;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HfBD2BszT4g/V0ALEbO3uRI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/QhwmCKHps9AgBNnfpzjWrcbRkT24OwTNwCLcB/s1600/full%2Btilt%2Bmaster%2Bcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HfBD2BszT4g/V0ALEbO3uRI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/QhwmCKHps9AgBNnfpzjWrcbRkT24OwTNwCLcB/s320/full%2Btilt%2Bmaster%2Bcover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="display: inline;"><br /><br />I would love you forever, if I only had the chance...<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br /><br />Kacey Dawson has always lived life on the edge--impulsively, sometimes recklessly. And now, as lead guitarist for a hot up-and-coming band, she is poised at the brink of fame and fortune. But she is torn between wanting to be a serious musician, and the demons that lure her down the glittering, but alcohol-soaked path of rock stardom. A wrecked concert in Las Vegas threatens to ruin her career entirely. She wakes up with the hangover from hell and no memory of the night before, or how she ended up on her limo driver’s couch...<br /><br />Jonah Fletcher has four months to live, give or take. He’d take more but knows his situation is hopeless, and that it’s better to try to make the most of whatever time he has left. His plans include seeing the opening of his glass installation at a prestigious art gallery…they do not include falling in love with a wild, tempestuous rock musician who wound up passed out on his couch.<br /><br />Jonah sees that Kacey is on a path to self-destruction. He lets her crash with him for a few days to dry out and get her head on straight. But neither of them expected the deep connection they felt, or how that connection could grow so fast from friendship into something more. Something deep and pure and life-changing…something as fragile as glass, that they both know will shatter in the end no matter how hard they try to hold on to it.<br /><br />Full Tilt is a story about what it means to love with your whole heart, to sacrifice, to experience terrible grief and soaring joy. To live life with all its beauty, and all its pain, and in the end to be able to smile through tears and know you wouldn’t have changed a thing.<br /><br />$25 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway:<br /><a href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/8ba816c016/" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block;"></span>www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block;"></span>display/8ba816c016/</a><br /><br />Add to Goodreads:&nbsp;<a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fbit.ly%2F1SWnOC9&amp;h=mAQE-E0NA&amp;enc=AZP8LUWuJS-1HMd6HORSX1MI_1HIEBDa-7-nJ3wzqAeZQEfnnPWpd-fuOMsl_na3Jt2JzV_Z5fxPMGRuDh5TLNn0MjcdFLB3lY7U7_7F8NaH3FciGalcdsY-YFa9hQ2GhTd-OtDJjiiL-vrNqPFKrfIi&amp;s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/1SWnOC9</a><br /><br />Follow Emma on Amazon:&nbsp;<a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2FBmGGC1&amp;h=JAQEVlgNP&amp;enc=AZNKpTrebE7TKy8hcJL-Hh1E9gpGFIoCAzylY6pJGjempfj0cPNALaYeMeMklAJlM2sBmekRwc578tasvl2c3aH_lHV_vdxv8r12SOaN0ZfB8JE6kzxjufBA58pOEFIm8z6odSo7WjEmYMjfjNZ-xxmK&amp;s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://goo.gl/BmGGC1</a><br /><br />Emma Scott on Facebook:&nbsp;<a href="https://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2F23iVQb&amp;h=mAQE-E0NA&amp;enc=AZNAZWjUg7L2Rf2nETdndawRCH-OhT473CLM0ltJ0jhNEABXDuCF69Sy6EUMgpOl1fc72WaSvsYb17U2rEgtD5ptUOOl0be6pto29oX4R5r_ZAMIWOgDdOfYWUh4qwZRAxZQcq2qFicM7u3NpAsvBGVc&amp;s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">https://goo.gl/23iVQb</a><br />Hosted by Raven. PA:&nbsp;<a href="https://www.facebook.com/RavenPAauthorservice/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">https://www.facebook.com/<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block;"></span>RavenPAauthorservice/</a></span></div></div>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-33855862771166891472016-05-01T12:55:00.002-07:002016-05-01T14:49:38.704-07:00How to Save a Life, on sale now for 99 cents thru May 2!<span style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px;">Amazon US:&nbsp;<a href="http://amzn.to/23UWRCr">http://amzn.to/23UWRCr</a></span></span><br /><span style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Amazon UK:&nbsp;<a href="http://amzn.to/26vOrTB">http://amzn.to/26vOrTB</a></span><br /><br />Grab a copy now! :)<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RHcAtsB8O5o/VyZfMOLh5fI/AAAAAAAAAj8/-eeRI-7KrxE05beZE1Y8P8sm4q2knm0MwCLcB/s1600/HTSAL%2Bsale%2Bgraphic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RHcAtsB8O5o/VyZfMOLh5fI/AAAAAAAAAj8/-eeRI-7KrxE05beZE1Y8P8sm4q2knm0MwCLcB/s320/HTSAL%2Bsale%2Bgraphic.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-35993124110613118032016-03-02T09:03:00.001-08:002016-03-02T09:03:11.034-08:00How to Save a Life...3 signed copies!<div id="goodreadsGiveawayWidget176268"><!-- Show static html as a placeholder in case js is not enabled --> <div class="goodreadsGiveawayWidget" style="border-radius: 10px; border: 2px solid #ebe8d5; margin: 10px auto; max-width: 350px; padding: 10px 15px;"><style> .goodreadsGiveawayWidget { color: #555; font-family: georgia, serif; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; background: white; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidget p { margin: 0 0 .5em !important; padding: 0; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink { display: inline-block; color: #181818; background-color: #F6F6EE; border: 1px solid #9D8A78; border-radius: 3px; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; outline: none; font-size: 13px; padding: 8px 12px; } .goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink:hover { color: #181818; background-color: #F7F2ED; border: 1px solid #AFAFAF; text-decoration: none; } </style> <br /><h2 style="color: #555555; font-size: 20px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20px; margin: 0 0 10px; padding: 0; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/" target="_new">Goodreads</a> Book Giveaway </h2><div style="float: left;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27471553"><img alt="How to Save a Life by Emma Scott" src="https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1451403972l/27471553.jpg" title="How to Save a Life by Emma Scott" width="100" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0 0 0 110px !important; padding: 0 0 0 0 !important;"><h3 style="font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 20px; margin: 0; padding: 0;"> <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27471553">How to Save a Life</a> </h3><h4 style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin: 0 0 10px; padding: 0;"> by <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/10405165.Emma_Scott" style="text-decoration: none;">Emma Scott</a> </h4><div class="giveaway_details">Giveaway ends March 20, 2016. <br />See the <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/176268" style="text-decoration: none;">giveaway details</a> at Goodreads. </div></div><div style="clear: both;"></div><a class="goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink" href="https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/enter_choose_address/176268">Enter Giveaway</a> </div></div><script charset="utf-8" src="https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/widget/176268" type="text/javascript"></script>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-64743815777775770822016-02-10T13:00:00.000-08:002016-02-10T15:37:20.471-08:00How to Save a Book<h1 class="quoteText" style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 15px; padding: 0px;">“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout with some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.” ―&nbsp;<a class="authorOrTitle" href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3706.George_Orwell" style="color: #333333; font-family: Lato, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">George Orwell</a></h1><div>Back in October of last year, I had just published Endless Possibility, the RUSH novella, and I was ready to roll on the next book in my City Lights series, Beside You in the Moonlight. (the Paris book)<br /><br />I had 20K words written and all systems were go...Except that I had an idea pop into my head for another story. Actually, it wasn't even a story. Just an image. A young man treading water in a pool at dusk. Alone. And he was wearing a white t-shirt, like an undershirt soaked through, and I could see the bruises darkening his skin.<br /><br />That's it. I didn't know what it meant, if anything. But it wouldn't get out of my head. Much in the sae way I "heard" Noah interviewing Charlotte in my head to kickstart RUSH, this image was a buried artifact, waiting to be unearthed. And it was a helluva lot more demanding than the Paris book. Who was this guy and why was he bruised up?<br /><br />So I thought I'd explore and wrote this:<br /><div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></div></div><div><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">His white t-shirt was already threadbare, and the water revealed everything through it: the planes of his chest, the cut of his abs—not yet a full sixer, but well on the way. And his bruises. I could see the greenish tinge of one on his right pec that told me it was old. I tread water around him. He didn’t move, didn’t counter, but let me take in the dark purples and blues of fresher bruises all over his back and arms.</span></div><div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I swam closer, my heart thudding dully in an unfamiliar cadence. It had been a long time since I’d been afraid for someone beside myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “Who does this to you?” I asked, anger lending my faltering voice some strength. “Your foster parents?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “Brothers,” Evan replied. “My foster brothers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I glided closer; the water carried me to him so effortlessly. “Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “To remind me I’m not blood. And that I’m different.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Still behind him, I raised my hand, poised it over a particularly dark splotch on his right shoulder blade. “Is it true? What they say about you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Still not turning, he said, “What do they say about me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “You don’t know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “I want to hear it from you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “They say you know things no one could possibly know,” I said, and let my hand rest on his back. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He flinched, but I don’t know if it was from my words or my touch. I didn’t let up with either one. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “They say that you can read minds.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; “That’s stupid,” Evan said. “Isn’t it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">That's not what ended up in the final book but pretty close. The words came easily and I thought, "Hey, there's a story here." And so I got excited. Maybe overly so...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">I'm the kind of person who gets super excited about teasers, covers, blurbs...even before I have much written. I love throwing ideas and words out there and seeing how they land. (I'm also seriously addicted to Canva and if you try it once, you will be too.) So in a fit of optimism and armed with a title, I set up a preorder on Amazon for How to Save a Life.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">For the&nbsp;uninitiated, setting an Amazon preorder is a solid deadline. To break it means you lose preorder privileges for a year. That's kind of a big deal to me, which is why setting such a crazy deadline without a draft was a dumbass thing to do. &nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">But I was feeling good, super excited about the story, and this was late October. Loads of time between then and Feb!&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">What could go wrong?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hHcu8QZc9kk/VrpZBDERaAI/AAAAAAAAAds/TEoyhp_fxP4/s1600/spider.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hHcu8QZc9kk/VrpZBDERaAI/AAAAAAAAAds/TEoyhp_fxP4/s320/spider.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">If I had one piece of solid advice I could give to writers who are unfamiliar with the concept of time (like I am) it would be NEVER set a preorder on the other side of December unless you've got AT LEAST a first draft. I lost the latter half of November (totally failed NaNoWriMo) and ALL of December due to holiday shenanigans. I wrote in fits and starts. Not nearly enough words for where a normal sane person would be with an early Feb deadline.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">When Christmas was over, RUSH got accepted to a BookBub promotion in early January. So alllll these new reviews and love for RUSH came pouring in from my overly generous readers. And like a rising tide raises all ships, RUSH raised HTSAL. Its Goodreads TBR list started to grow, preorders were coming in, and fabulous bloggers started getting interested in it. So the expectation to write a better story than RUSH, with a more beloved hero than Noah; PLUS the fact HTSAL was a rapidly turning out to be waaaaaaay more emotional a novel than I had anticipated, ANNND adding the extra fun of a crazy deadline looming...well it all piled up. I started to lose it.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4UIM9frjMgA/VrpaeCNO8YI/AAAAAAAAAd4/Cd_dNp-rFGc/s1600/sheldon.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4UIM9frjMgA/VrpaeCNO8YI/AAAAAAAAAd4/Cd_dNp-rFGc/s320/sheldon.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">Really lose it. I woke up every morning with panic twisting my gut. I was paralyzed by insecurity, the deadline, and the mind-crippling fear that this book was just too weird for anyone to like. &nbsp;I not-too-subtly mentioned this a time or ten on my Facebook page, but tried--TRIED--to keep the drama away from my readers, lest I sound whiny or incompetent, or worse, like I was trying to lower expectations by complaining.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br />But this book wasn't going to make it without help. It, and me, were sinking fast. So I reached out to someone I am fortunate enough to have in my life, and she threw me a lifeline.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">I "met" Suanne Laqueur via her novel The Man I Love. (You really really should read it; here's a link----&gt;&nbsp;<a href="http://amzn.to/1Kbbr2g">http://amzn.to/1Kbbr2g</a>)&nbsp;<a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">The writing in this novel blew my mind and I wrote a review to say so. The review resonated with her, we got to chatting, and bada-ding bada-boom: friendship. Only not JUST friendship. There are certain individuals you meet in your life (you know who I'm talking about, we all have them) where you just click. Or gel. Or feel like you've known them forever. The kind of people who, if you started out as online friends and then met them in person you'd probably just burst into tears and hug them for an hour. I'm not saying that's me, but that's totally me. Point is, yo</span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">u only get a handful of these special people in your life. Maybe only one or two, so take care of them. :)&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LlDV6kQRSgE/VrriJaz1JSI/AAAAAAAAAew/LR4H4SlU8dU/s1600/friendship.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LlDV6kQRSgE/VrriJaz1JSI/AAAAAAAAAew/LR4H4SlU8dU/s320/friendship.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">Anyhoo, I felt a strong connection to Suanne that transcended internet space and time, so that I felt like I could unload my anxiety about HTSAL on her like a dump truck. I was sure--SURE--that I wasn't going to make it. That the book would either have to be delayed (a notion I hated) or I'd have to abandon it altogether if I couldn't pull <i>myself</i>&nbsp;together.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">And then Suanne asked me a very simple question: Do you believe in your story?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">And like that...boom. Sliced through all the angsty bullshit and got to the heart of it. Did I? Because if the answer was NO then it would be a simple thing to just set the book aside and move on. But the answer was YES. Hell yes, to be exact. So the time to get my act together had come.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-23qto-7bZzM/VrropqgAPFI/AAAAAAAAAfo/LgP1vzw_PvU/s1600/need%2Bhelp.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-23qto-7bZzM/VrropqgAPFI/AAAAAAAAAfo/LgP1vzw_PvU/s320/need%2Bhelp.gif" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">I then tiptoed for about six or seven more texts to her; subtle shit like, "Hey, know any good editors?" and "Hey, you know who are cool people to hang with? Editors!" and "Gee, I sure wish <i>I </i>had an editor." She got the hint. Turns out Suanne was available and willing to be my editor for this book and voila! Book=saved.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hwqxZtQ8Hak/Vrrj18ecwBI/AAAAAAAAAe8/lTiu0fVtZdQ/s1600/gif%2Brelieved.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hwqxZtQ8Hak/Vrrj18ecwBI/AAAAAAAAAe8/lTiu0fVtZdQ/s320/gif%2Brelieved.gif" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal">For Career Day during my seventh grade, a published novelist came to our class to speak. I SO wish I remembered her name, but I'll never forget her lesson. She pulled out a piece of pristine paper, typewritten, with nary a wrinkle. She said, "This is what a page of my book looks like BEFORE it goes to my editor."<br /><br />She then showed us another typewritten page, this one wrinkled at the edges, dog-eared, and covered--and I do mean, COVERED--in red ink. And then she said words I've never forgotten, "This is what it looks like after my editor is done with it. It's what<i> real</i> editing looks like."<br /><br />In this digital age, we don't mess with actual paper and ink from real pens. It's all electronical, but the result is the same. REAL editing, by the way, is NOT red ink for the sake of red ink. Nor is it the blood of many wounds because the editor cut you to the bone with harsh criticism. It's the blood of toil and hard work. It belongs there. Any author who gets a paper covered in red ink from an editor they trust, who knows their shit, and whose only intention is to HELP, should be<i> thrilled</i>&nbsp;. They should be Tom Cruise-couch-jumping for joy to have someone who took that much time and effort to go over their work.<br />Case in point: I sent Suanne a page that looks like this:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IwuUwg8ILUA/VrrmIJQJkRI/AAAAAAAAAfU/HxxbnW9CTNk/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-02-09%2Bat%2B11.26.01%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IwuUwg8ILUA/VrrmIJQJkRI/AAAAAAAAAfU/HxxbnW9CTNk/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-02-09%2Bat%2B11.26.01%2BPM.png" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />It came back looking like this:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c_zrZkf9fi0/Vrrlt4_wpEI/AAAAAAAAAfM/iY1IDhR6wDA/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-02-09%2Bat%2B11.24.21%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c_zrZkf9fi0/Vrrlt4_wpEI/AAAAAAAAAfM/iY1IDhR6wDA/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-02-09%2Bat%2B11.24.21%2BPM.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">That, friends and neighbors, is editing. Every. Single. Page.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">Now, this doesn't mean I was typing shit...just upchucking my worst and saying "Fix this." (Though that would have been a time saver, amirite?)&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">No, it means that there is ALWAYS room to do better. I had been without solid beta/editing input for months as my schedule moved too impossibly fast for my fabulous writer's group to keep up. I'd have monopolized every meeting in order to get the level of feedback I wanted/needed for HTSAL. And time was of the essence.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6K2anF5KR5U/Vrrp61hBhsI/AAAAAAAAAf0/1OM2JYohIHk/s1600/deadllines.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6K2anF5KR5U/Vrrp61hBhsI/AAAAAAAAAf0/1OM2JYohIHk/s1600/deadllines.png" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">I stayed up until 2am almost every night for weeks. I drank coffee by the gallon, lost 5lbs, and woke up every single morning with anxiety twisting my guts. I took to speaking into a headset to <i>get the words down</i>&nbsp;even if that meant every single time I spoke the words "Evan said, " it came out as "Heaven sent" or "I've resend."&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">It was rather torturous. But I have this thing about being punctual. I'm OCD about it or anal retentive or whatever you want to call it. When my kids are running late for school, I literally start to panic. So the idea of blowing my self-imposed deadline was horrible to contemplate. I didn't want to lose my preorders for a year, but moreover, I didn't want to let my readers down. You can't, in my humble opinion, tease the shit out of something and get everyone all excited and then say, "Sorry. I was too busy being a chickenshit to make deadline." Yes, life happens and there are legit unforeseen&nbsp;events that can derail a&nbsp;project. I'm just saying, for me, being paralyzed by anxiety was not sufficient reason to blow my deadline. The only way out is through.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CAk6lkOoNKM/Vrrvh1g8Q2I/AAAAAAAAAgU/OTNo_azikkk/s1600/deep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CAk6lkOoNKM/Vrrvh1g8Q2I/AAAAAAAAAgU/OTNo_azikkk/s320/deep.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">I typed as fast as I could and I gave the emotionally raw pages to Suanne, and she helped me to polish them up. She showed me the way. She pushed and prodded. She mentored me through this thing, and I do not mind saying that. Everyone should be so lucky to have someone of extreme intelligence, artistry, and generosity of spirit to mentor them. To say, "Yes, this shit is hard, but you're going to make it. I'll help."</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">Suanne, there aren't enough ways to say thank you for what you did for me, but this is one.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">Now, this may sound like a helluva lot of angst over a book but it was a gut-wrenching experience to write. That's a fact. So if that translated to the page, then I'm happy because there were a lot of tears and late nights and nausea that went into it. But the end result was worth it. So worth it, and it wouldn't have made it without Suanne. Holy crap, I still can't believe we made it, lady.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eCJM06bv5kc/Vrrre_3_V6I/AAAAAAAAAgA/HiF6YD6a2B4/s1600/high%2Bfive.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eCJM06bv5kc/Vrrre_3_V6I/AAAAAAAAAgA/HiF6YD6a2B4/s320/high%2Bfive.gif" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">This business is so weird. As a writer, you're torn in half (or at least I am) by an almost manic urge to share your work with the world, coupled with a deep, gut-wrenching fear of what people will think when you do. It makes no sense. Why torture ourselves? The only answer I can think of (beside the Orwell quote above) is that the good outweighs the bad and that if you can reach someone and move them, and make them feel something they might not have otherwise, well shit, that's pretty cool.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">If there's any takeaway to this post (besides Suanne Laqueur's imminent sainthood in the House of Scott) it's that you should never give up. This is a tough business. If you're a writer reading this then you know that. But keep going. Even when it's hard as fuck. Even when you think it's impossible, if it's your dream, keep the fire lit underneath it. If you're struggling right now, maybe I can help you as I was helped: &nbsp;Do you believe in your story? &nbsp;If the answer is yes, then please share it with us. &nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">Love and bravery, as Daisy might say. It takes love and bravery, and always keeping your compass pointing&nbsp;north</span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">.&nbsp;Always north.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">&lt;3</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;">Emma</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;times new roman&quot;;"><br /></span></div><!--EndFragment--></div>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-79426178937756938022016-02-09T22:51:00.000-08:002016-02-09T22:51:14.841-08:00How to Save a Life is now live!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YgQ4JWriJ-w/VrrdwO7TJNI/AAAAAAAAAeg/4tFVnImjRGQ/s1600/HTSAL%2B1500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YgQ4JWriJ-w/VrrdwO7TJNI/AAAAAAAAAeg/4tFVnImjRGQ/s320/HTSAL%2B1500.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Q8fhLV<br /><br />It will be available via other retailers next week!<br /><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-24724590732410739242016-01-04T21:01:00.002-08:002016-01-04T22:15:21.987-08:00RUSH on sale now for 99 cents!!Happy New Year!<br />To celebrate the new year (and the fact that RUSH made it into BookBub as a featured deal) my third book baby is on sale for 99c through January 7th!<br />If you haven't picked up your copy yet, here's your link:&nbsp;<a href="http://amzn.to/1ILRMyy">http://amzn.to/1ILRMyy</a><br />And if you head on over to my Facebook page I'm giving away a $15 Amazon to some lucky winner for helping me share the news!&nbsp;<a href="http://on.fb.me/1O70M7A">http://on.fb.me/1O70M7A</a><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">To be blind is not miserable; not to be able to bear blindness, that is miserable. --John Milton&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">The life he knew is over. The life she wants is just out of reach.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Together, they must face their fears and rediscover what it means to really live.&nbsp;</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8IKUUYyqr_M/VotNBZJ6UII/AAAAAAAAAbE/lazFLd675Lo/s1600/NEW%2BRUSH%2BSALE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8IKUUYyqr_M/VotNBZJ6UII/AAAAAAAAAbE/lazFLd675Lo/s320/NEW%2BRUSH%2BSALE.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-22030415803878816832015-12-29T09:00:00.000-08:002015-12-29T09:00:12.705-08:00How to Save a Life Cover revealCOVER REVEAL and KINDLE FIRE GIVEAWAY FOR<br /><br /><b>How to Save a Life</b><br /><br />Hey all, here is the cover to my newest standalone romance, releasing February 9, 2016!<br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Josephine Clark is trapped. A harrowing past haunts her every time she looks in the mirror, and she can’t escape the violence of her everyday life. More and more, her thoughts turn to Evan Salinger, the boy she knew in high school. The boy they called a mental case. A loner. A freak. The boy who seemed to know things no one could know. For a few short weeks, Jo had found perfect solace in Evan’s company, sneaking every night to meet him at the local pool. In the cool of the water and the warmth of Evan’s arms around her, Jo had tasted something close to happiness.&nbsp;</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Cruel circumstances tore them apart, and four years later, the sweet memory of their time together is dissolving under the punishing reality of Jo’s life now. Evan seems like a fading dream…until he reappears at the moment she needs him most. Guided by Evan’s strange intuition, they flee her small Louisiana town, running from police and criminals alike, and Jo begins to suspect there is something more to his sudden return than he admits.&nbsp;</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Over twelve days across America’s heartland, deep secrets come to light, buried pasts are unearthed, and the line between dreams and reality is blurred as Evan and Jo fight to hold on to their soul-deep love, and discover that there is more than one way to save a life.&nbsp;</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">How to Save a Life is a complete second-chance STANDALONE novel with some shades of the paranormal. It carries the characters from high school through to their early twenties. It is not YA; mature subject matter and sexual situations. For readers 18 years and up.</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">preorder link:&nbsp;</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">http://amzn.to/1Jsb9OJ</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">And I am giving away a brand new Kindle Fire as part of the cover reveal!</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Enter here:&nbsp;http://bit.ly/1JALOC5</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Excerpt:&nbsp;</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“I didn’t do that so I could get something in exchange. You don’t owe me anything. That’s not how this works.”</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“How what works?” I asked in a small voice.</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“Us.”</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">I felt shy and unsure and completely exposed. More than even when he was between my thighs, kissing me to oblivion and back again.&nbsp;</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">"So this is us?" I asked.&nbsp;</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“Yeah,” Evan said, cupping my jaw. He swallowed hard. “This is us.”</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">I felt something break open in me. I wanted to cry. I laughed instead, and threw my arms around his neck, driving us both under the surface. I kissed him and tasted myself on his lips, and his own sweetness before the chlorine water washed it away.</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">We came up laughing and sputtering, my hair in my eyes. Evan raised both hands and brushed the long, dark locks from my face…and from my scar. I held still, letting him do this, letting him see me, and he smiled.</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and kissed me long and hard, and I sighed into that kiss, into his body, into him. I wasn’t beautiful, not anymore, but it was still nice to hear.</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“I know you don’t believe me,” Evan said, his words echoing my thoughts with uncanny precision. “But it’s true.”</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">I felt myself turn rigid, ready to pull away, but Evan wouldn’t let me. His arms slipped under mine and around my back, drawing me toward him. He raised one hand to my scar, his fingers soft and gentle, and warm over the lightning crack that marred my cheek.</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“The Grand Canyon was carved by a river. It sliced through the rock, revealing layer upon layer of beauty, and a depth that couldn’t be seen until it was cut open. One little sliver of water…”</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“Evan…”</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“One little sliver.” He traced the ragged seam down to my chin. “The majesty of the Canyon is that depth; that beauty, buried for years, until the river cut it open, revealing everything.”</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">I felt tears sting my eyes and pressed my cheek into his hand. “Don’t,” I whispered. “I can’t take it.”</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">"It's okay, Jo." Evan smiled gently and pulled me to him. “It's okay.”</span><br /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">No, it wasn't okay, but he didn’t fight me or try to force it on me. Years of feeling ugly couldn’t be erased with a few poetic similes. But he was here in my arms and I was in his, and the way he looked at me…I could almost believe what he was saying was true, and that was good enough for me.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JXL9f5agGJo/VoCeAvG56yI/AAAAAAAAAaE/fnrBHPP9oFc/s1600/HTSAL%2Bmaster%2Bcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JXL9f5agGJo/VoCeAvG56yI/AAAAAAAAAaE/fnrBHPP9oFc/s320/HTSAL%2Bmaster%2Bcover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6598318629762667538.post-640913076769800352015-10-12T14:11:00.000-07:002015-10-12T14:11:41.890-07:00Snippet from Endless Possibility, releasing tonight!Hey all,<br />Noah and Charlotte's story comes to a conclusion with Endless Possibility, and I thought I'd actually dust off this blog and post a final snippet for those who care to read without having it in their face on Facebook.<br /><br />Enjoy!<br />http://amzn.to/1LlfgMo<br /><br /><div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="mso-pagination: none;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Sometime later that morning, we finally put our clothes back on, and Charlotte made a call to Sabina Gessler, the director of the Vienna Touring Orchestra. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“I don’t have to be back until later this evening,” Charlotte told me. “I want you to come with me and meet everyone before the concert. Sabina, and Herr Steckler, and—oh! Annalie! My best friend here. She is lovely. I told her all about you. Except that you’re blind. Funny, that never even occurred to me. I just don’t think of you that way first.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“Neither do I,” I said. “Not anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Charlotte gasped. “Really? Oh, Noah...” I heard the bed creak as she stood on it and wrapped her arms around my neck. I breathed in the perfume of her skin. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">God, this woman. I pressed a kiss between her breasts, over her heart. That sound, her heart quickening its pulse under my touch…the best thing I’d ever heard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“We have one problem,” Charlotte said, slipping her arms down around my waist. “It’s nine a.m. and I’m wearing a fancy black velvet dress. The Walk of Shame imagery I have going on here is pretty epic.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“Hey, I’m in the same boat. How many buttons did you rip off my vest?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“Maybe one or two.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">I arched a brow in her general direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“Or all of them.” She giggled. “So what do we do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“Let’s go back to my hotel…” I cocked my head. “Unless this <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i> my hotel. Is this my hotel? Where are we?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Charlotte laughed again, a rich sound, and cupped my cheek. “Oh, Noah. You sound so…happy. But tired. You look tired, honey.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">I held her hand. “I’m fine, baby. Really. Never better, now that I’m with you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“You promise you’ll tell me what happened? I mean, all of it. Your whole trip?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">I kissed her hands. “I promise. Right now, I need a shower. Or, more specifically, I need to get <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i> in a shower. In my hotel room.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“You’re insatiable,” she laughed. “That doesn’t solve my current clothing predicament. You tore my underwear to shreds, mister.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“In my defense, a thong isn’t really underwear. It’s more of a torture device to drive men insane. And it worked.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">“I love how it worked,” she purred, her lips brushing mine. “You have something for me to wear at your hotel?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>“Leave it to me. I’ll take care of you, baby."</span></div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-indent: 0.5in;">“Mmm.” She rested her head against my chest. “I like the sound of that.”</span></div>Emma Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12052416005457580044noreply@blogger.com0